Monsieur Gaston
by Razzle
Summary: After losing Belle to the Beast, Gaston falls from the tower but instead of dying he lands in the river! Soon he finds himself cursed by the same Enchantress who put a spell on the Beast himself. But will Gaston be able to find anyone to break HIS curse?
1. Chapter 1

The top of the Beast's dark, ugly tower fell away, along with all of Gaston's hopes and plans. A scream ripped from his throat in his absolute terror. There was no way he could survive a fall from such a dizzying height. He scrabbled uselessly at the empty air above him, seeking anything, any type of purchase that would stop his fall and save him. An odd memory struck him, something that Belle had mentioned once out of those books of hers - that falling from a great height should feel like an eternity. But to Gaston, it felt much too fast and he wasn't ready to die yet. "Somebody help me! Anybody!" he screamed into the empty dark sky above him, then he felt cold and darkness close around him.

Seconds later, Gaston realized that he was in the water. By an impossible chance, he had landed in the river that ran past the base of the hideous Beast's castle. He flailed desperately, afraid that his luck would turn on him and he would drown. It was hard to tell which way would take him to the safety of the riverbank, and he found himself whirling uncontrollably in the fast-paced water. The side of Gaston's head slammed into a rock, but he managed to push himself away and soon found himself washed up on the side of the river, his lower body still in the water. Hazily, he looked up and started to try to drag himself up onto completely dry land.

"Young man! Are you hurt? Let me help you out of that muddy water," an aged woman's voice croaked. Gaston blinked and refocused his eyes to see a bent woman with a twisted mouth and a hooked nose bending over him, grasping at his shirt with crooked, gnarled hands.

Gaston was not in a mood to be pleasant. "Stay away from me, you old hag!" he snarled, reaching up to shove her away from him.

"Oh!" she cried and fell backwards to the ground. Old, feeble, and not expecting ingratitude, she had lost her balance. "If you're so fit," she quavered, "Then help _me_ to my feet and I won't bother you any more."

Gaston finished pulling himself out of the river and glared at the old woman. "Why should I? I've lost everything! _Everything!_" He put his face in his hands and let self pity overwhelm him.

The old woman tried again to approach him, crawling over to pat his shoulder with a withered hand. "It can't be all that bad," she creaked. "You're still alive, after all. That was a nasty tumble into a cold river at night. You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" Gaston scoffed, throwing off her hand. "Just leave me alone, you old fool!"

The woman frowned, and said sternly, "It's not right to judge others by their appearance alone, lad. I have more years of experience than you can count to, I'll wager."

"I'm warning you, old woman," Gaston growled, "Leave me in peace!"

The old woman shook her head and sighed, "No, I'm warning _you_. It is truly a pity you will not listen." Out of a fold of her dress she drew forth a delicate wand and tapped herself on the head. Instantly the disguise melted, revealing an enchantress who appeared to be in the very flower of youth and was also the very picture of beauty, standing where the old woman had crouched the moment before. Gaston gaped and reached up to feel his head to see if there was a lump where he had hit the rock, but he didn't find one. The enchantress smiled sadly down at him. "Poor man. You have obviously been through much already, but that does not excuse your behaviour. It is clear to me what kind of person you are; ungrateful, spiteful, and coarse. I am sure you have hurt many people that you do not even realize have suffered on your account. It is for that reason that I will now lay a curse on you."

Gaston tried to scramble away, but he was rooted to the spot with fear. "No! I beg of you! I didn't mean to offend you! Don't hurt me!" He clutched at the skirt of her sparkling green dress.

The enchantress gently pulled herself away, still giving Gaston the same sad look. "You must learn to realize how your words affect others. You have badly misused the gift of speech. Perhaps without it you will begin to understand its true importance." She reached down and softly tapped the end of her wand on Gaston's head.

Gaston tried to beg her again to change her mind, but found himself unable to speak. Panicking, he frantically clasped his hands together in front of him in a gesture of pleading.

The enchantress continued ruthlessly in her same gentle tone, "When - and if - one of the people you have hurt with your words forgives you for it, you will be freed from the curse. Until then, you will not be able to say a word." Ignoring Gaston's desperate gestures, she faded away and vanished.

With a silent groan, Gaston laid back down on the riverbank and fell asleep.

* * *

"It's so awful!" Babette said, sniffing into her handkerchief.

"It's absolutely _terrible!_" Antoinette sniffled.

"I don't even want to talk about it!" Clairette cried, putting her face in her hands, and causing all three triplets to burst into fresh tears. The trio were out walking together along the river. Their mother had sent them out, telling them that some fresh air would do them good. So far, it didn't seem to be helping. They simply could not get their minds off the tragic incident of Gaston the night before.

"I can't believe he's gone," Antoinette whispered.

"He was _so_ strong and handsome," Babette sighed in agreement.

Clairette gasped, placing one hand to her mouth and pointing with the other one. "What's that?"

The three girls ran forward to see the still form laying by the riverside.

"Oh no!" Antoinette cried.

"It's him!" Clairette said, falling to her knees next to Gaston. "He must have washed up here."

"But so far from the castle?" Babette wondered.

"I can't look!" Antoinette sobbed.

"I can't stand it!" Babette moaned.

"He's still breathing!" Clairette gasped. "Gaston!" Clairette began shaking Gaston's shoulder, and her sisters dropped to their knees next to her to help, all three crying hysterically and calling his name. Then, Gaston moved, slightly. The triplets snatched their hands back and watched, holding their breath as Gaston rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Crying his name out again, this time joyously, they all fell on him, hugging him.

"We thought you were dead!" Babette shouted.

"We thought we'd never see you again!" Antoinette agreed.

"Oh, Gaston!" Clairette cried.

Somehow, with a lot of excited chattering and only a few stumbles, the three girls managed to help Gaston to his feet and got him back to the small village where they all lived. The triplets were so excited that Gaston was still alive that they didn't even notice his silence, especially since he tended to be aloof with them anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time they reached the Lodge in the village, Gaston was in the blackest black mood he had ever been in. Not even Le Fou could do anything to improve things - and he was the only one who dared get within several feet of him in the first place at a time like this, when Gaston was sulking so angrily in his enormous armchair. Beer was splattered across the walls where Gaston had thrown it, and it streaked down into frothy little pools on the floor.

To make matters worse, no matter how deeply Gaston furrowed his brow, nor how far he stuck out his lower lip, the other people in the Lodge simply wouldn't stop talking about Belle's recent wedding to the Beast-Prince, and what an amazing event it had been. In fact, over the past several hours since Gaston had arrived at the Lodge, his mood had actually managed, amazingly, to get even worse. He felt as though if he heard the name 'Belle' one more time, or another mention of her precious prince, that he would want to scream. He couldn't, of course, thanks to that wretched enchantress. He couldn't make any sound at all.

"Peh!" Le Fou scoffed, eyeing the other patrons in annoyance as he brought over a couple more mugs of beer for himself and Gaston. "Would ya listen to these jerks? 'Oh, the dress was so dainty'," he mocked, making a comically overemphasized face, "and 'they're such a lovely couple'! If you ask me, Belle got what she deserved," he went on scathingly, oblivious to Gaston's irritation. "I mean, of course _you_-"

BONK.

Gaston lifted his fist from the top of Le Fou's head where he had let it sharply drop, and watched his little friend topple over dizzily onto the floor, spilling both mugs of beer over his own head in the process. Gaston couldn't scream, but the chance at _any_ outlet for his anger felt good. Why did Le Fou have to mention her name, anyway? Couldn't he tell that Gaston was upset enough already?

Well, he couldn't sit here and sulk forever. Placing his large hands on the plush arms of his chair, Gaston pushed himself to his feet, stepped over Le Fou, and stomped out the door of the Lodge.

What he needed, Gaston decided, was a hunting trip. A good, long one - two or three days away from the village at least. Hearing a loud clatter and the Lodge door slamming open behind him, Gaston turned to see Le Fou popping outside, already carrying his hunting gear. _Good old Le Fou,_ he thought in spite of himself. _He's read my mind!_ With a suddenly cheerful beckoning wave of one large, muscular arm to his small friend, Gaston turned and stomped towards the edge of the village that met the woods.

"Good! You're feeling better," Le Fou observed, panting slightly as he hauled Gaston's heavy hunting rifle and a large brown sack along, while running very fast on his short legs to catch up with Gaston's long stride. "What are you going to hunt today, Gaston? Ducks? Deer? ...Gaston?"

Gaston reached down and snatched up his rifle away from Le Fou, putting it up over his shoulder. He couldn't, of course, answer Le Fou's questions, but he wasn't really in the mood to talk much anyway. As for what he would hunt... the first thing that got in his way, that's what.

* * *

It was beautiful. A fat, fine buck with a set of antlers that would make the deer's head another wonderful trophy for Gaston to display on the wall once he shot it. He aimed his rifle silently through the thick leaves of the forest at the animal, hardly breathing as he waited for the perfect shot. It was at times like this one that Le Fou was completely quiet and still as well, just a comforting silent companion in among the trees.

"What are you doing here?" a lordly voice asked angrily from somewhere above and behind Gaston - his shot went wild, and the buck dashed off to the side and out of sight. Infuriated, Gaston turned to meet the voice, even as he felt Le Fou tugging at his elbow.

"That's him, Gaston! That's the beast - the prince - that's _him!_"

Of course, Gaston could work that out perfectly well for himself. Although the young sandy-haired man was unrecognizable on his own, who else would be riding double on that farm horse, sitting right behind Belle?

"I thought I told you to leave!" the prince continued, frowning angrily down at the pair of hunters, "and now you're poaching in my forest?"

Belle, on the other hand, merely seemed stunned. "Gaston! You're alive! But how?"

"That's right!" the prince said, his eyebrows lifting from a frown to a look of surprise at his wife's words. "I remember you fell from very near the top of my castle! How could you have survived that?"

Gaston, of course, could not reply, as he looked up at them sullenly. Just who he _hadn't_ felt like running into on what was supposed to have been a relaxing hunting trip - a chance to think, even. Besides, what business was it of theirs? What did _they_ even care if he lived or died to begin with?

But Le Fou was already answering for him. "The triplets found him on the bank of the river that runs from your castle to the village!" he explained. "He must've fallen in there, isn't that right Gaston? Since he's so big and strong it was no problem for him to swim to shore! Of course, if he'd landed somewhere else, then I guess it would've been 'splat!', but not Gaston! No, he -"

BONK.

Gaston frowned down at his companion where he still lay facedown in a little patch of mud, as Gaston had knocked him there with a quick slap on the back. Le Fou soon righted himself, however, seeming none the worse for wear as always.

"Well, whatever the reason," Belle said, still looking quite startled although her expression softened considerably at her next words, "I'm glad you're all right, Gaston. I never wanted you to get hurt. I just wanted you to see the beast - " she paused, with a smile, and turned on Philippe's back to put a hand on her prince's. "I - I mean Stephan, the way I did. Oh! I have an idea," she said suddenly, turning forward again to smile at Gaston and Le Fou. "Why don't the two of you come visit us at the castle?" She quickly waved away Prince Stephan's objections. "Don't worry, ever since Papa and I moved to that village, I've never seen Gaston raise a weapon to another human being. He was only 'hunting' you when you were a beast. He'd never harm you now - isn't that right, Gaston?" she asked sternly, her tone leaving room for no disagreement as she fixed him with a stubborn look.

Reluctantly, Gaston nodded. He was surprised by what she'd said. It was true of course, but how did Belle manage to notice things about him that he had never realized himself? That sharp mind had been part of his desire to have her for his own. What an impressive man he would have been, to have a wife like that to answer to him!

"Very well," Stephan agreed reluctantly, giving Gaston a look that clearly showed he was remembering that knife in his side.

For Gaston's part, it was hard to imagine that this civilized prince had once been a foul beast with razor sharp fangs and massive claws.


End file.
